Cadaver Company
by sparkley-tangerine
Summary: 3X11X3 When Heero selfdestructs in Siberia, Trowa stayed behind and picks him up. Then reality kicks in and he realizes he has to get a guy in a coma all the way to L3. This is his story.
1. Chapter 1

Cadaver Company

Summary: 3X1/1X3- When Heero self-destructs in Siberia, Trowa stayed behind and picks him up. Then reality kicks in and he realizes he has to get a guy in a coma all the way to L3. This is his story.

Chapter One: Something More Mercenary

Heero Yuy was not dead.

Do not ask me how I knew this little fact, I just did.

While the cold, calculating soldier part of my mind told me no one could survive what I'd just seen- he did self-detonate; I had at least five other witnesses to confirm the event- another part of my mind stubbornly shook its head and insisted that pilot 01 was still alive.

I was beginning to wonder about this other part of me as, one by one, my 'comrades' left the frozen wasteland that is Siberia and I stayed behind. They obviously didn't feel the same compulsion I did. If it had been anyone else, I might have hazarded that they just weren't as crazy as I seemed to be, but I knew better. Of the five-four- FIVE of us Gundam pilots I think I'm the least insane of the group.

Go figure.

Fed up with dealing with my soldierly instincts, I calmly rationalized that if Yuy hadn't survived, he at least deserved a proper burial and someone to mourn his loss.

As I hid Heavyarms deep within one of those nifty little ice caves, the logical part of my mind piped up again- questioning my motives.

I'll be the first to freely admit that I'd probably fallen victim to the Yuy Curse- the belief that Heero could not die and with just his presence, could make everything bad suddenly turn good. Like Chang, I respected the guy as much as some of the biggest influences of my life. I would willingly follow him to the death.

As Quatre has said many times over, I admired his nerve and his single-minded determination to get the job done. I'd always seen myself as replaceable but there was only one Heero Yuy.

Er, that is, there only one Heero Yuy who can pilot a Gundam. Unless another guy comes along who can, and is also named Heero- forget it.

And as much as I hate to think about it, I also wanted Heero's trust and friendship- just like Maxwell.

…….I can't believe I just compared myself to him. I think I've just broken a very important religious creed somewhere with that one. I couldn't hold back a sigh at that thought. The things I do for Heero Yuy.

Of course, I was avoiding one other person who had fallen, and fallen hard, for the Yuy Curse- someone I could definitely relate to. Relena Peacecraft wanted his love and she wanted his companionship. I could completely relate, although I would have settled for something a little more mercenary between us. The words 'fuck' and 'buddies' comes to mind.

Mercenary…and people say I have no sense of humor. It's there; just a little….warped.

Looking at the giant craters and melting ice caps, I suppose there is one little quirk about the amazing Heero Yuy that could easily annoy the hell out of me- his complete disregard for the environment. God only knew how many animals and habitats he and that blond bimbo of a pilot had shmushed under their big tough Gundams today.

I froze as I came across my comrade's body and the few scattered remains of Wing.

Oh….oh, ew. That has to hurt. From this distance, I'm beginning to hope that other part of me was wrong and he's seriously dead because those are going to sting like a bitch when I get the antiseptic.

Feeling just a little twitchy, I moved closer. If he's dead I'm going to have to touch him. If he's not I'll probably end up with a gun shoved up my nostril.

The fact that he didn't even stir at my noisy approach was telling. He had to be either dead or in a bloody coma to not being trying to blow me away right now. Heero's like a vicious animal when he's wounded- all snarls and hisses and the occasional bite.

Running a semi-expert eye over the deep lacerations and stripes of red in the snow I knew he had to be hurt badly. I hardly doubt Yuy had had the time to squirt ketchup all around him just to play dead.

If he isn't already dead. Dammit, I'm going in!

Putting two fingers on the still boy's neck, I was more than slightly shocked to find a pulse. A pulse and erratic breathing. Merde, he's still functional.

The amateurish stilling from shock was pushed from my body as my little bit of field medical knowledge took over. He was only wearing that thrice-cursed green tank top and spandex shorts- both of which had barely survived the blast and kept his modesty in tack. On a better note, the cold is slowing his heart rate and the amount of blood loss- or slowly killing him by way of hyperthermia.

I quickly took off my jacket, wrapping the scrapes of shirt around the worst of the wounds before shoving his lifeless- let's try a different word- limp arms and upper torso into it. I couldn't help but pause to notice how….small my clothes made him look. True, Yuy was a lot stronger- reconstructed genetic-make-up will do that to a guy- and more compact than I was but he was also short as hell.

There was nothing I could do for his legs unless I was willing to part with my jeans, which I wasn't without Yuy being in a position to actually do something about my being pant-less, so I quickly picked him up and headed back to my Gundam.

It was that short fifteen minute trek that taught me a valuable lesson- being short doesn't make Heero Yuy any less heavy. You'd swear HE was the one made of metal and not his Gundam, which I did- swear that is- as I slogged back through the ice and snow and watery patches of land only to find my nifty little ice cave had partially caved in while I was away playing Heero's…hero.

Well, ha fucking ha.

I sighed, something I rarely indulge in, before putting my burden back on a piece of relatively dry ground. Well it's not like I could do anything else? I may be one of five of the most dangerous people in all of Earth and the Colonies but that didn't mean I could lug Yuy around and clear snow at the same time.

It took about and hour and a half to dig Heavyarms out enough so that I could actually get into the cockpit and just muscle my way out. It was sitting in my nice, warm pilot seat that I came across my first major dilemma since snatching Yuy's body.

Just where in the hell was I going to put him?

Contrary to popular belief, a Gundam's cockpit isn't all the spacious. It can't be if it's meant to be safe for its pilot and let's face it, a Gundam is already pretty huge do you know how much harder it would be to hide these things if they were any bigger? Pretending to be an Oz transport would have been out of the question.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, its not that big- just enough room to have the pilot sit comfortably and have one passenger stuffed in the side. The trick with that little tidbit is that said passenger has to be conscious to avoid slipping down to the pilot's feet and bouncing all over the place.

Since Yuy had just been blown up, I'd rather avoid finishing the job of killing him by simply stuffing him by my chair and hoping for the best.

I looked around my cockpit in frustration and the answer came to me as I spotted a length of rope. It sucked as an option if he had any major internal injuries but tying Yuy down to something seemed to be the only solution.

I didn't realize, until I was standing by my unconscious pain in the ass, that the only thing I could possibly tie him down to was me.

I sighed again. "The things I do for Heero Yuy."

After much fooling around- not that kind of fooling around- and only a set amount of rope, I finally found myself heavier by about a full pilot. Yuy was strapped to me, his back against my chest, the rope twining around our waists before criss-crossing over my back to end in a neat little bow on Yuy's chest.

Standing, his feet barely touched the ground and I had the imagination to conjure up what we probably looked like- me carrying Yuy in what looked like an over-grown baby harness.

There weren't even any animals to see me but an embarrassed blush heated my face before I made my way back to Heavyarms.

Climbing my Gundam's suddenly too slick surface, I was eternally grateful for the mounds of snow below me. At least this way, if I fell from this kind of height I wouldn't be hitting solid ice like the idiot attached to my chest had. I cringed slightly. He had even bounced.

Sliding into the pilot's seat, I felt more like four days and not four hours had passed since my strange compulsion to check up on Heero Yuy's body. Sitting drew the ropes a bit tighter than I'd thought, but nothing too unbearable as I closed the hatch and started up. Hopefully the ride inside a warm Gundam would help thaw out the icy-cold flesh of Yuy's legs. I could feel their coolness through my jeans.

It was…..uncomfortable at best, trying to pilot a Gundam with a whole other person attached to my front. A whole unconscious person who flopped around at every bump and jump in the ride. If Yuy wasn't already overly bruised by his stint with the red button on Wing he was certainly going to be after this trip.

With my already bad run of luck today, I shouldn't have been overly surprised by what happened next.

Taking a sharp turn, Heavyarms jerked as a blast of cold artic air buffeted it form the left. The responding jerk of the cockpit made Yuy's previously stationary hand slid down from his thigh to rest exactly on my crotch.

"Shit!"

That sudden jerk came from my own arm as I tried to wriggle my comatose comrade's palm of my….yeah. Heavyarms did the mobile suit rendition of Swan Lake, nearly cart wheeling around the frigid air as I wiggled and bucked around in my seat.

Fighting to keep the yoke steady and trying not react to the hand covering my important bits, I used my right arm to right Yuy's body from its relaxed position on my stomach to a more stable one on my lap. Removing the wandering hand, I quickly stuffed the cold, bruised fingers under the ropes on Yuy's chest with a relieved sigh.

As his head flopped over onto his chest, a startling thought crossed my frazzled mind.

I had just been groped by Heero Yuy.

An unconscious Heero Yuy but Heero Yuy all the same.

I let out a near soundless chuckle at the thought of what Relena Peacecraft's reaction to that would have been as I gave Yuy's head a small pat.

Then I pulled up a map of the area and tried to find the closest safe secure house in the area.

Maybe the others could help me with Yuy's care.

* * *

A/N: This...this is some crazy stuff that my mind cooks up while trying to explain the whole G-Wing timeline to my younger sister.

S.Tangerine


	2. Sugar Oh Honey, Honey

Cadaver Company

Chapter Two: Sugar….Oh Honey, Honey

I'm still in…shock isn't even a strong enough word for it. Disbelief? Utter disbelief? Complete and Utter Disbelief? Unimaginable Disbelief? One of those anyway.

The reason?

The other pilots have left. Not just Siberia, hell not just the Eastern Hemisphere but the whole damn planet. Chang, Winner and Maxwell left Earth's atmosphere so fast they left Gundam sized skid marks in the sky and no way for me to contact them.

Hurrah for loyalty and being a band of brothers. If these guys were my family I'd have hired a hit out years ago. It's bloody ironic that the two pilots who'd wanted us to join together to 'fight the evil Ozzies' cut ties with the rest of us to fast the elastic backlash gave them welts.

So here I am, grounded and alone in enemy territory with a coma patient for company and a big-ass Gundam to hide. Could life get any worse?

Well, now that I think about it properly…yeah it probably could get worse. Stupid question.

The last five days have been nothing but a string, actually more like a whole ball of yarn, of bad luck. All safe houses Earthside have been compromised- blowing up your Gundam and conviently leaving parts of the computer systems still intact is a slight tactical error Yuy- so the day after picking up my closet groper was spent throwing him back over my shoulder and running like hell from the Ozzies trying to storm the little house in Russia that was supposed to be safe.

The only thing good about that stop was that I finally had a chance to bind most of Yuy's injuries and start him on a saline drip……and confirm that he was, in fact, comatose.

A coma. A fucking coma. I'm dragging a guy in a damn _coma _around in my Gundam. That sounds about as safe as running with a pair of scissors down an icy hill. Or putting Yuy in a machine that can self-detonate.

After our- okay my- flee from Russia, I was stuck with nowhere to go and nothing to do but make my own damn safe house and figure out a way to get Yuy, Heavyarms and myself off of Earth.

At the moment, the old cat lady next door thinks I'm taking care of my poor, step-brother who was injured in the war and the vast scale of Tokyo's population makes blending in fairly easy.

Well, as easy as blending in can be for a guy who's nearly six feet tall and vaguely European looking in a city full of short, black haired Asians- ergo, we're safe for a week, tops.

As you can guess, I rarely go out- mostly at night and up the street to steal some more medical supplies from the hospital there. Dressing in all black those few times I left the apartment made me feel like some sort of British cat burglar and I had to resist going after anything that might actually be of some value.

Strange.

As for Yuy, well there's not much a guy in a coma can do really. I did the whole 'sit by his bedside and wait for him to wake' thing for about two hours before leaving him to grab a book and some ramen, turning on the monitor I'd swiped from the hospital. Wouldn't do to have the jerk die after all the trouble I went through to save him.

I don't know about anyone else but even_ I_ get bored watching Yuy when he's not awake and interesting. At the moment, the most he can do is breath and drool.

The only highlight of having the Perfect Soldier in my care is getting the….chance? Privilege? Duty? Chang would kill me for the last one, but the whole point of the matter is I get to bathe a naked Yuy and not get shot for it.

……of course I looked, who do you think I am- Relena Peacecraft? All I've got to say on the matter is that J was right when he called his pilot the Perfect Soldier.

Actually that's a rather creepy thought. J wouldn't- what would be his purpose with fiddling around with Yuy's bits if the guy was meant to be emotionless and care only for the mission? I suppose the evil doctor might have wanted to remove the things completely, if he wanted-

I now had the sudden urge to check and make sure Yuy had all his wiggles just to be on the safe side. What a perfect pair we'd be- Yuy the pervy groper and me the pervy voyeur. Winner's probably a sex addict, Maxwell a cross-dresser and Chang some sort of quirk for inanimate objects. At least this way we can all go to therapy together.

Then again, Maxwell, Winner and Chang would probably end up ditching Yuy and I- throwing us to the wolves and all that.

Bitter? Who me? Of course not.

Hm, it's later than I thought. Time to change my patient's bandages. Nurse Trowa to the rescue.

You know, for a guy who basically tired to bite the dust, Yuy's not that bad off. True he's in a coma but physically he's only got some deep wounds and massive bruising. That's it. We watched him literally explode and bounce around on the ice for a bit and the only thing he's going to have to show for it is some wonky scars on his upper torso and legs. If he ever wakes up.

The one on his thigh looks like the route map for the L3 transit. Huh.

I looked over him slowly, checking his wounds for signs of infection- yeah I know what it sounded like……..not that I wasn't admiring the view or anything. I'm an opportunitist like that. Still, he's so far gone right now he wouldn't know if I chopped it off- looking isn't going to hurt anyone.

Back to the wounds. There was no more bleeding. There was no extra redness. There was no unexplainable heat. There-

There was a knock at the door.

I had my gun out and was taking stock of all the exits- not very many when you're stuck on the tenth floor- before I had gotten half-way across the room. Hiding the weapon, I opened the door.

And had the distinct impression that Winner would be very ashamed of me right now. Maxwell would have bust a gut laughing.

Standing on my doormat was a little boy, maybe eight or nine. He held one of those plastic measuring cups in his hand and a scowl on his face.

"Can I have some sugar?"

Even with a mental Quatre chiding me, the first thought that crossed my mind, and nearly my lips, was 'Come back in ten years kid.'

Instead I simply nodded and took the cup from him before closing the door in his face.

What? Just because I work at a circus when I'm not fighting a war doesn't mean I understand- or like for that matter- kids.

I got the dman sugar and returned to the living room, only to find the brat standing in it. On the side of the door other than the one I had left him on. He didn't look at all cowered as I glared at him.

"It's rude to close the door on people like that, Mister. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

I thrust the cup of sugar at his chest, some of it sprinkling onto the carpet. I wrinkled my nose. I'd have to vacuum that before it got wet and sticky. Two safe houses with a bored Maxwell had taught me the dangers of wet and sticky- sugar that is. Not the other kind of wet and sticky.

The boy was still there. I gave him an eyebrow and he gave it right back. Was I supposed to talk with him or something now?

I pointed at the cup. "There is your sugar." I pointed at the door. "Go."

He ignored me, the little bastard. "So you can talk. I was starting to think you was too stupid or something."

…..is it still illegal to shoot kids in this country? Damn. He was calling my intelligence into question when he barely had a decent grasp on proper grammar?

I gave him a look I knew scared other kids shitless but he took it like a man and smirked at me. Maxwell's smirk. It was frightening.

"The last person to hear me speak died. They never found his body."

It was morbidly amusing to see that smirk drop as the little boy dashed back out the open door sprinkling sugar everywhere. I remembered not chuckling in a slightly evil way as I watched his disappearing back. That kind of thing tends to make others think you're insane. I know- Yuy and Maxwell do it all the time.

Shutting the door, I leaned against it tiredly, smacking my forehead against its hard surface.

Safe for a week? Maybe a day if we're lucky and the kid doesn't just run straight to the cops.

Returning to Yuy- whose wounds were unwrapped and was only covered by a small towel over his lap- a commercial on the television caught my eye.

It was for the circus_. My_ circus. The ultimate safe house for a guy like me.

A plan was forming and I didn't like it one bit.

Heavyarms would like it even less.

* * *

A/N: This fic won't be too long...maybe ten-ish chapters. It's just Trowa's trip to L3 with Heero's body. Nothing too special grins

S.Tangerine


	3. King of the Road

Cadaver Company

Chapter Three: King of the Road

I had to dismantle Heavyarms.

I know- what idiot tries to take apart a Gundam? The same idiot who had a hand in putting it together actually. The only person who knows more about Heavyarms than I do is Doktor S and in some strange way I think he'd approve. He always did enjoy challenging people in life or death situations.

Besides, I had enough dead weight to be deal with- and between Heavyarms and Yuy, only one could be broken up into reassembly parts without the loss of life. Although it's debatable just who is the heaviest of the two. Hopefully this stint with the coma will lighten the guy up.

It's not a well known fact that the Gundams, in an emergency situation, can be broken up into six parts- head, body, two arms and two legs- for easy transport. Since they're also made of Gundanium- hence the whole Gundams thing- they don't show up on regular metal detectors and scans. It's really only the heat scans that we have to watch out for and with my plan that shouldn't be a problem.

My first job was to order a truck of fish to be delivered to the L3 Circus. It would be ready for pick-up by my driver- namely me- for tomorrow afternoon. I had until then to get my Gundam into bite-sized pieces and smuggle Yuy out of the building.

That meant buying clothes for my corpse. That meant shopping and malls and people.

One tiny sliver of silver in our great big storm cloud was that Yuy's sneakers- those ugly yellow things- had survived the blast completely. Not a scratch on them. I'd actually hazard a guess and say that they look even better but then I'd be pushing it.

I didn't know why I was complaining so much to tell the truth. I needed to make a supply run before we left to get more bandages and another trip to the hospital was necessary….

Now that I think about it all of this stuff is for Yuy and he wasn't even conscious enough to help carry it. Inconsiderate jerk.

That also meant that I'd need to rent a car so cart his ass around in. I could only keep up the guise of caring step-brother for so long and it certainly would hold up if we had to take public transit.

I had Yuy's wounds rewrapped in record time before taking one of the sheets of his bed and winding around his body. I didn't like the idea of leaving a man helpless while I was gone so I had to improvise.

I ended up stuffing him under the bed and hiding the medical supplies before locking all three bolts on the door.

Hopefully that would keep anyone else out and Yuy in if he woke.

I ended up taking the bus- at least until I got my car- and that one ride killed the idea of ever using it again. I missed the first bus, had to stand in the bloody rain for the second, which was late and then ended up with my face in some sweaty construction worker's armpit for the whole trip.

I got off three stops early.

By the time I actually arrived at the car rental agency, my hair resembled something we once ate when I had been a mercenary.

In short, I looked like a drowned rat and they treated me like one. It took a blood and urine sample before I could drive away with my beat-up old Honda. It was a green color that reminded me of the time Winner ate too much sushi and had a rattle that put my teeth on edge.

Still, it ran good enough and was dry- so I wound up looking more like a fluffy bunny than a drowned rat by the time I had reached the Shopping Center. I must have sat in my car for ten minutes, just watching the people going in and out of the revolving doors. I had a clear mission objective- get the damn supplies- and a burning desire to do it quickly. Shouldn't be a problem right?

That's when I learned to NEVER cut in through the cosmetic department on your way to get hair gel. Never.

Two girls, both wearing more make-up than I've seen some clowns use, quickly caught me in their claws- er, hands- and started talking in rapid Japanese. Very rapid Japanese- the kind you only hear when people are excited or on drugs.

I knew I was in serious need of back up when they started…..floofing up my bangs. They. Touched. My. Bangs.

Resistance was futile as these…..harpies had more strength than they should have- maybe it was all that make-up- and my ass was sitting in one of those spinning chairs before I could blink.

A tube of something that looked like…. _anti-bacterial cream?_ was pulled out from somewhere and I sneezed as the powerful scent of roses filled the air. As one of the clown harpies began running her hands through my hair, the shorter of the two bent down to just…smile at me.

It was the smile of a devil.

Then my hair was covering both of my eyes and the feeling of being completely trapped over-came me.

I'm not sorry to say that I made a break for it when I did, as the one with the deceptive grin had some sort of flesh colored cream spread over her fingers, and those fingers had been headed for my face.

I dashed through the Hair Care department, grabbing my gel along the way, and cut across the woman's clothing section before hiding behind a display of baby clothes.

They must have been in pursuit because that nauseating stench of roses still followed me.

It only took about a minute and three strange looks from other shoppers for me to realize that the smell was coming from me. Or more specifically, my hair.

Now not only did I have floofy bunny hair, but I smelled like Treize Kushrenada's bubble bath.

I grit my teeth. "The things I do for Heero Yuy."

Reaching the men's clothing department, I quickly grabbed a couple of pairs of jogging pants and a few tanks tops, sweaters and one jacket. I didn't look at textures or colors- Yuy was dead to the world, what did he care is he was wearing matching clothes or not? Then again, I mused as the girl at the check out shot me an amused look, Yuy wore forest green tanks and spandex shorts most of the time. I doubt the latest fashion trends ranked high on his personal priority list.

I'm pretty sure I left a dust cloud in my wake as I left the Shopping Center. The rain hadn't let up and I cringed at the slippery feel of that rose goop sliding down my neck. With my luck it would soak into my shirt and leave that horrible smell everywhere.

"How am I supposed to break into a hospital smelling like the whole entire floral department?" I complained lowly to myself as I drove back to the apartment.

If it was still standing- considering my luck I'd be surprised- I would need to take a shower, check on Yuy and then hit the hospital.

I checked my time. Heavyarms was a good six hours away by car and I needed time to take him apart. I also needed a hoist and a bloody miracle but beggars can't be choosers. My plan could still work if I dismantled my Gundam while it was _inside_ the trailer…….. A bit of the fish and ice shaving would need to be sacrificed for the cause but it could still work.

For the first time in nearly a week, things were looking up.

Cat Lady gave me a nasty look as I approached our mutual corner of the hall. I'm not entirely sure what it was for- the hair or the smell or something else entirely- but it solidified my need to move tonight. The trucking company was a short distance from Heavyarms and the space port a full night's drive after that.

Yuy hadn't moved, much to my dismay. A part of me still hoped that he would have been awake and glaring at me- hell I would have welcomed him trying to get a bullet off by now- when I returned.

Instead 01 had stayed wrapped up in his sheet, like a damned mummy, and I had to drag his ass out from under the bed again. There was a moment, when my fluff of hair brushed his face, where I'd thought his nose had wrinkled from the stench but when I looked again it was gone.

Or maybe the fumes were getting to me.

I put him back on the bed with a huff and went to shower.

It took nearly forty minutes and half a bottle of shampoo to dilute the smell to something that didn't give me a migraine. Roses still filled the air around my head and I dropped my expressionless mask to scowl in the mirror. No matter how much I had cursed the others disappearing on me before, I sincerely hoped we did not cross paths until this gunk wore off. Or I broke down and shaved my head- which ever came first.

Next came dressing my comrade and in pulling out the mismatched clothing I realized that, in my haste to finish my shopping, I'd forgotten one piece of clothing.

Yuy was going to have to go commando.

Not that it really mattered to him, being in a coma and all. He'd learn to deal.

You never realize how hard it is to dress someone else, especially when that person is unresponsive, until you have to do it. It's like trying to dress a piece of over-cooked spaghetti- all limp and floppy. Of course my piece of spaghetti had bruises and wounds and bandages and an I.V. that I had to watch out for.

It took nearly fifteen minutes to get Yuy dressed up in a pair of dark blue sweat pants, a black tank top and a new green windbreaker. Then came on the ugly yellow shoes. The end result had my patient looking like he'd been dressed by a kindergartener or a blind man.

I took stock of the remaining medical supplies and made a quick run with them and my duffle bag down to the car before coming back for my 'brother.' Cat Lady had turned in for the night and the hall was empty as made my way to the elevator, Yuy riding piggy-back style.

The elevator dinged open and I was greeted by a pair of shocked eyes. The man was dressed in a black business suit and thankfully made room for me and my burden when I stepped through the doors.

The silence was heavy as I shifted Yuy on my back.

"Wild night?"

I glanced at my elevator companion quickly before nodding. I hoped my silence would give him the hint that I didn't want to talk.

It didn't. No one ever gets the bloody hint.

"So you got stuck being the designated driver?" He tried to give me a knowing look. It came off more like he was in pain. "I bet you're the responsible one of the group, hey?"

That was….surprisingly correct. Chang had an unimaginably short temper, Winner was a Class A worrier, Maxwell was reckless and Yuy a suicidal maniac. Compared to those four I _was_ the responsible one.

I guess it showed on my face or something because that got a chuckle out of the Suit and he gave me a condescending pat on the shoulder before the doors binged open again and he left.

I shifted my weight again and hoped for the sudden end of the whole human race before we hit the ground floor. At least then I wouldn't have to deal with anyone else again.

No one stopped me as I virtually kidnapped Yuy and stogged him in the passenger seat of my ugly little Honda. It was almost pitiful how easy it had been to transfer myself and my unconscious pain in the ass.

I shrugged slightly as I pulled out of the parking lot and into the light traffic. The night wasn't over yet and with my luck, or lack thereof, I'd probably get mistaken for a patient at the hospital. Or Yuy would.

Oh. Shit.

I ended up parking almost a block away from the hospital and I stuffed Yuy down to sit on the floor before covering him with one of the blankets I had in my duffle bag.

Then I took my empty backpack and went to hit the stash.

Despite what everyone may think, it's frightfully easy to steal from a hospital- even when your hair smells like something you'd find on a two dollar whore. It's basic infiltration at its finest. You simply act like you belong there and that you know what you're doing. Someone smiles at you, you smile back. You blend.

I left with a few more bags of saline, more clean I.V.s, a couple bottles of morphine and antibiotics and last but not least two catheters- because no matter how much I've already done for Yuy I am not letting him piss in my trailer when we get to L3. No way. Relena may think she knows devotion but she hasn't a thing on me. I wonder if she would have been willing to change Yuy's sheets until I got this little plastic tube.

I doubt that brat has even seen pissy sheets, never mind touched them.

Things went off without a hitch. I even got to buy a sandwich for the road from the vending machine. As we left Tokyo behind, I had the distinct feeling of waiting for the other boot to drop.

I expected the car to stall. I expected Yuy to spaz out and do something weird again. Hell, I expected a damn monsoon to come down on our head.

I did not expect to get pulled over by the cops.

It felt almost…surreal as the man in navy stepped up to my window and tapped it gently. He even asked for my license and registration in that typical 'officer of the law' voice. I explained that the car was a rental and he gave me a bored 'Hn.'

When I covertly looked over at Yuy's sleeping face, just to make sure it wasn't him making that sound, the cop caught sight of him.

He shone his flashlight into Yuy's slack face and frowned.

"What's the matter with him?"

My mind flashed back to the Elevator Incident. I shrugged.

"Drunk."

I got that damned knowing smile again.

"Must have been some party."

"It was a real blast." I commented, thinking about the fight in Siberia. My cop friend chuckled and flashed the light at Yuy again.

"He's three sheets to the wind!" He sounded delighted. "What happened?"

For some reason I felt like pulling a Maxwell.

"Met his rival at the party." I sent my still comrade a not-so-faked glare. "Then the pissing contest started."

The cop- Officer Yanko said the name tag- smirked. "Did your friend win?"

For some reason, Heero's determined face flashed across my mind when Une issued the ultimatum. Surrender the Gundams or the colonies get it. Heero gave them the ultimate 'fuck you.'

I felt a true grin curve my lips. "Yes. He won this round."

Yanko gave my drunken friend another once over and snorted before pulling away.

"You tell your friend once he sobers up to stop dressing in the dark. Green, blue and yellow?"

I felt like the comment was directed at me somehow- ridiculous really, because the cop couldn't have known that I'd bought Yuy's clothes and dressed him as well- and I turned away from his face.

"He just doesn't like shopping."

The cop's mocking laughter echoed as he turned and walked back towards his car.

I waited for the all clear to leave, expecting some smart ass remark or even the shrill of the sirens.

What I heard was a frightening screech of tires and a pained yell. The sound of flesh hitting metal is unforgettable and as a black sporty looking car raced on down the road, I knew I had bigger problems.

I now had a dead cop, a comatose pilot and a hidden Gundam to deal with.

I groaned and hit my forehead against the steering wheel with a thump.

I also happened to hit the horn as well.

Dammit.

* * *

A/N: Poor Trowa. Heero's acting like one of those people who sleeps through a car accident or something. and he's been stuffed into every posible cubby hole imaginable!

S.Tangerine


	4. Leaving On A Jet Plane

Cadaver Company

Chapter Four: Leaving On A Jet Plane

I'm not sure why, but for some reason the urge to glare at Heero's body was there and strong and I did it- no matter how petty it is to glare at a guy in a coma.

I sighed before getting out of the car and winced at the mess of Officer Yanko.

Whoever got him hadn't done a simple bump-and-dash. They'd actually run the man over. He'd….popped in places that made my sandwich threaten to come back up.

Silently, like I did most things now that I think about it, I crept over to the body and checked for a pulse- just to be sure. Hell, I'd thought Heero had kicked the bucket and he was sitting in my rent-a-car….in a coma.

I seem to be stuck on that one fact a lot. Hm.

Yanko was dead. I figure it's hard to live with most of the things in your stomach suddenly being outside your stomach.

I looked away as I dragged his body out of the middle of the road and rolled it down into the soggy ditch separating the shoulder of the road from the fields and sparse trees.

That took care of him for a while, but I've come to learn that people have the nasty habit of finding the bodies you always hope remain unfound for a while. It was practically a Murphy's Law that whenever a Gundam pilot stuffed a dead ozzie in a closet, another ozzie had to find him before said pilot could leave the base.

Now I only had a police car to deal with. Great.

With my luck, the cop had checked in before getting out of his car and dispatch was just waiting for his next call. I strode- because I'm too calm to stomp- over to the car and peered in the front seat.

It was empty and the lock took no time to jimmy. Some lady was squawking loudly over the radio as I tore out the dash camera and held it in my lap. The mini-computer that was on a swivel system between the two front seats was alive and buzzing

I noticed the blinking cursor and couldn't believe my luck.

Apparently Officer Yanko had gotten sloppy. He'd had our license plate number punched in but had not hit enter. For all dispatch knew, Yanko was out taking a piss or buying some doughnuts.

I ripped out the computer too. I wasn't taking any chances.

I tossed my pinched electronics into the back seat of my car- Heero still hadn't moved- and turned back to the cop car, thinking.

That ditch was pretty deep and this was one of those unpaved country roads people tended to avoid. If I got the angle right……

I locked my car door- paranoia at work there- before turning back to the cop car. It would be joining Yanko in the ditch if I had my way.

I kept my driver's side door open as I backed up the road, ignoring the squawking of the radio for more important things. Turning the wheel to the right, I hit the gas, waiting until the last possible moment to dash out my escape route. It was vaguely satisfactory to watch the bright white car topple over the end of the road with a tinkle of breaking glass and a loud splash.

There wasn't enough water to completely cover the car but the darkness of the night and the bottom of the vehicle should hold cover until I could get far enough away from the crime scene.

Returning to Heero, a well of irritation surged through my chest at the thought of having to take the fall for a death I had nothing to do with. I wasn't overly worried about fingerprints or DNA being of any use to the cops- I had no memory of my life before being a mercenary child and up until taking Heavyarms my name was Nanashi- no name.

I know first hand just how hard it is to find a person who, legally, doesn't even exist. I was safe.

Besides, I am a Gundam pilot- I'm sure covering up the murder of a cop is nothing compared to being a teenage terrorist.

I pulled away from the side of the road and continued down our route to Heavyarms. We'd lost nearly an hour with that stunt now- I'd have to drive all the way to the trucking company to get there on time. The urge to check on my Gundam was almost unbearable but I had set up perimeter sensors that were connected to my cell phone. If anyone even breathed wrong around my Gundam I'd know it.

For once the silence of the car was wearing on my nerves and I kept sneaking glances at Heero's still form. Was he breathing alright? Had his wounds been jostled and reopened? Could I catch any signs of infection with his body so far away?

I stifled another sigh- those were becoming common- before using my right hand to undo Heero's seat belt and lay him gently down on the bench seat of the car. I put his head on my thigh, checking his breathing and his temperature worriedly. It calmed me somehow to run my hand through his thick, messy hair as I drove. Heero's mere presence was doing for me what a good, long cigarette would do for a lawyer- my calm was back.

We stayed like that all night, even as I drove the bright, busy streets of the next town. Once I got that truck of fish and we were back with Heavyarms, I'd need to get Heero another drip set up and possibly put in a catheter. Things would be a bit more private in the big truck and when the trailer holding my Gundam was on its way to L3, I could start on getting Heero and myself there.

Amazingly, that would be the hardest part of this whole thing.

I would normally have just used Heavyarms to blast back into space but with an extra body- an extra injured body- that would be impossible. The thought of simply stealing a shuttle and leaving after I'd sent my Gundam had crossed my mind but I couldn't risk being followed with a comatose Heero or having Oz follow me to the circus.

It had to be the sneaky way or no way at all.

I took a risky stop at a gas station, grabbed some food and coffee before heading out to look for a suitable hiding spot for the car and Heero until I could get my truck.

I ended up stashing the car and pilot in an alley way about a block up from the truck lot. The lack of sleep was beinging to get to me- making me see some pretty strange colors- but I'd already decided I'd sleep later that night and when I got on the damn shuttle. I just had to get the truck and make sure I didn't get us killed before we got to Heavyarms. It would be really annoying to have gone through all this only to end up killing Heero myself.

Besides, the coffee had helped. Things weren't swaying so much.

I entered the tiny office building to see the typical stereotype trucker standing there in a dirty white, wife beater and a gallon of sweat simply pouring from his face.

I firmly kept my expression neutral as he grunted at me.

"Who're you?"

"Trowa Barton. I've come to pick up the L3 Circus order."

Trucker's eyes flickered up to the clock on the wall.

"You're early."

I simply stared at him. The man had told me it would be ready in the afternoon. It was quarter to two- most people considered that the afternoon.

Sweaty Trucker didn't like my stare it seems- most people don't actually- and he reached for a pair of keys behind him. Then he paused and gave me a startled look.

"You smell like perfume. What kind of damn freak are you?"

I felt my EARS burn as I snatched the keys from his hand and signed the forms he gave me- something about being responsible for the truck and my employer was liable for anything I did while driving.

I left the office with thoughts of shaving my head and burning down all cosmetic shops in Tokyo. Stupid, damn rose scent STILL hadn't left my hair.

The tag on my keys told me my truck was parked in Space Eleven. It took nearly ten minutes to walk there. I had to size up my trailer before leaving. It certainly looked big enough to hold a Gundam but I couldn't be sure until I actually put Heavyarms in it.

I hoped up onto the little instep and into the cabin, feeling a bit more secure in my plans as I pulled out of the lot and headed back to get Heero.

……and nearly had a stroke when I arrived at the end of the alley to see a couple of teenagers trying to break into my car.

People who know me will tell you that I don't get angry easily. Very few things can shake my calm. Normally, this kind of situation wouldn't faze me. As it stood, I had already been having a significantly more stressful week- even worse than piloting a Gundam and fighting an improbably winnable war against Oz- and the sight of another possible problem was enough to make my blood boil.

I think I yelled. I know I cursed. Whatever it was that came out of my mouth made the two punks turn white and run, dropping their Slim Jim with a clatter. When my fury finally clamed to a manageable level, I was still panting slightly and there was a low buzzing noise in my ears.

Through it all, Heero slept like a fucking baby. I was struck by the sudden feeling of envy. If only we ALL could be in a coma when things got tough.

I grabbed him first and made quick work of setting him up in the truck's cabin. With my luck, the two punks would come back and end up taking his body with them if I did anything else.

Two trips later, we were on the road again and headed for the secluded forest that hid Heavyarms- barely two hours away. Heero's head was resting on my thigh again and there were no more interruptions. No sudden storms, no more demonic make-up ladies, no curious cop, no more murderous drivers. If anything the truck drive was somewhat anit-climatic. It felt more like a calm ride out to the country with a…..comatose friend. Dammit, that last part always messes things up.

My cell phone had been buzzing non-stop for nearly an hour as I carefully maneuvered my suddenly larger-than-life truck down a beaten path. It was large enough for me to pass without leaving any suspicious marks on the paint but the terrain was unsteady and very rocky.

I stopped us in a large clearing, one that looked to be the result of a large bomb having gone off years ago. It was very nicely covered from any overland sightings but spacious enough to move about if I was careful.

I stretched Heero out completely across the seat before sticking him with another saline drip. I really didn't want to have to deal with having a dehydrated Heero Yuy as well.

Then I left him covered in a blanket and started out for Heavyarms. I had covered my Gundam in the handy camouflage tarps the five of us had. Wing had needed it the most, being a bright white-silver color had made it a difficult mecha to hide.

Heavyarms had the colors of red and gold but I usually had no problems finding a decent place to hide mine until the danger had passed.

The trailer was filled it capacity with wooden crates I knew would be filled with ice chips and fish. They'd need to be removed until I could get my Gundam in there. Then I'd need to save a few for the fake-out and open a lot more. The cold trailer would keep everything…. cold enough- Heavyarms included- that any scans done at the space port would be of nothing but a large mass of frozen product. Once my Gundam was completely covered, any left over crates would be stacked up in front of the mess.

I knew I wouldn't feel completely at ease until Heavyarms was back onL3- the shuttle ride would only increase my worry. It was nice to know that once Catherine saw just who the shipment was registered to and from, she'll get the subtle message of just what was actually in it. She's smart like that.

I ended up using Heavyarms to pull all of the crates out of the back before crawling us into the trailer and quickly dismantling him. Perhaps quickly isn't the right word. It took nearly four hours and I had more scrapes and bruises than I'd ever thought possible. I almost lost my legs when the right arms was accidently dropped to the trailer floor.

I was left tired and sweaty in the end, but Heavyarms looked like a large mecha puzzle by the end of it. Now that I had the pieces of a Gundam ready to be put back together, I could cover it in ice chips and fish. I knew I'd need to give it a good cleaning when things finally settled down.

…..I wasn't the best fan of seafood and I had a slight allergy to tuna.

Unpacking fish is hard work. It's long, tedious and somewhat hazardous. By two in the morning my back was on fire and I had more splinters than a tree. I think I had frostbite on my hands. I was hungry, exhausted and somewhat dehydrated.

But I was done, dammit.

I drank two bottles of water and ate…something I had packed in my duffle bag before passing out on my side by Heero's still body.

Before sleep overcame me I vaguely wondered just when the boy next to me had become 'Heero' and not just 'Yuy'.

My shuttle was supposed to be leaving at four that afternoon. The space port was nearly three and a half hours away. I awoke at eleven thirty.

One look at my watch had me scrambling around Heero's form and nearly dragging him off the side of the seat with me. I landed on my hip hard, cursing a blue streak long enough to make Maxwell speechless before sliding into the driver's seat. Heero's head ended up in my lap and I gave his messy locks a run-through for good luck. Again that almost calm feeling descended over me as I started up the truck and began to pull away.

Little animals that had been eating the left-over fish, scattered at the noise I made as I began to back out of the trail we'd left behind. It didn' take as much concentration as I thought it would have and we were cruising down the highway.

It was refreshing. I broke a few speed limits. I never got caught. I had the wind in my bangs. Heero was alive. Life was….well, not exactly good but just- not as shitty as usual.

I arrived at the space port at quarter to three.

Heero ended up stuffed on the cabin floor with a blanket, duffle bag and back pack covering him and looking like nothing more than a trucker's pile of dirty clothes and junk. It really is quite amazing just what you can do to a person in a coma- things they'd never even know about.

I'm just glad Heero's so damn short. I couldn't imagine what would happen if the rolls were reversed. Of course, Heero would probably have left me somewhere if I had even survived blowing myself up so that's a bit of a moot point.

I needed to check in first before they unhooked my trailer and I got to find out if I was about to be arrested or get away Scott Free.

The girl behind the counter was one of those airhead types- way too flirty and way too under-worked. I gave her my papers. She giggled. She said my hair smelled nice. I glared. She 'eep'-ed. I sighed. The entire process was one great big cause and effect chart.

Then it was over.

The only time I'd felt more relieved was when I realized Heero was actually still alive.

I tried to look like a disgruntled trucker as security and the space port shuttle loaders gathered around the trailer. Heat censors found nothing and metal detectors were rather useless on a metal box.

I nearly choked on my breath when they opened the back and shifted around a few crates. I pretended not to notice when they took one out and cracked it open only to find the ice chips and fish.

Then they loaded it back up, locked the doors and began to tug her away. It felt a bit like I was giving away a child- or having one taken forcibly from my cold, dead hands. I barely realized when I received my official notice of shipping.

The idea that Heero might be uncomfortable stuck curled up in the truck did come to mind, but I didn't leave the space port until Heavyarms was safe in the shuttle and the shuttle was jetting off into the atmosphere.

There, that was one less thing to worry about. Now I had to get myself and Heero off of Earth and for that I required something special.

I needed to get Heero Yuy a coffin.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Work popped up as usual. Only three more chapters left of this little...arc? Whatever. Thanks for the reviews!

S.Tangerine


	5. To the Moon And Back

Cadaver Company

Chapter Five: To The Moon And Back

Yup, a coffin. No, I was not planning for Heero's death. What other way could I possibly sneak a comatose guy onto a shuttle without anyone being suspicious? Claiming he was drunk wouldn't work for a thirty-six hour trip into space. People tend to regain consciousness before then if they're only smashed.

I rented a single room from a sleazy motel- no questions asked if you have enough paper to tempt the owner to look the other way- and set Heero up in the bed, ignoring the moans and pounding against the wall from the room to our left. I needed to get some sleep myself before going casket shopping but hey, maybe all that noise would be enough to make Heero Silent Yuy wake up and shoot someone.

Looking at his beautifully slack face, I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for it.

I settled down carefully next to Heero and crashed into unconsciousness.

Lack of sleep and stress combined to give me dreams that would have any psychologist in the earth and colonies scratching their heads. Something about having to attend the funeral of Heero's dead pet tuna fish.

Feeling functional again I quickly set to work getting everything ready. I ordered myself some pizza, bought Heero a suit on EBay and looked up the locations of funeral homes to buy the casket. Then I checked up on renting a truck to move the casket once I was on L3, bought a shuttle ticket for the day after tomorrow and filed my forms for the 'extra' baggage.

Before hitting the sack, I risked checking up on the status of my shipment to L3. The space ports let you do that these days- a screen comes up with a miniature little shuttle slowly making its way from your spot on the Earth map to your specific cluster of colonies.

It was close to midnight before I went back to bed, checking on Heero's bandages and drip. I curled up on my side, making the rise and fall of his chest the last thing I saw as dreams claimed me.

To my intense shame, I woke up…cuddled- for lack of a better word- up to Heero's side. I couldn't have gotten any closer if I tried.

…Well maybe I could but you get the point.

God, I was cuddling my coma patient. They have buildings with bars on the windows and padded walls for people like me, I think. Maybe the stress of the last week has finally gotten to me and I've somehow gone insane without my knowing it.

Of course, if I knew it I couldn't be insane right? The whole crazy people don't know they're crazy. Hm. I'm good then.

I ended up having to leave Heero unguarded again, much to my displeasure. I hate leaving a man like that- mercenaries, contrary to popular belief, are startlingly loyal to each other and 'the family'. Leaving Heero like that went against everything I'd had drilled into my head for as long as I can remember.

….which isn't saying much, really, considering I'm prone to amnesia. It's the thought that counts, though. I could have stuck up a perimeter but it would have looked a mite suspicious if I was seen sticking motion detectors in the ground around the motel. And completely pointless with the people in room nine going at it again.

So I just had to suck it up and push forward.

I'm not all too sure about normal, everyday citizens but casket shopping is damn depressing.

Maxwell would love it- he'd probably take the time to test out every model for comfort or something just as ridiculous. I found it a drag, mostly because I couldn't help but think that most people who have died in my life never had the luxury of having a casket for themselves.

It's a sobering thought. I think I would want a casket of my very own some day.

I almost can't believe I spent the day window shopping for a coffin. Or that the funeral director fell for my sob story about bringing my spacer brother home to put him at rest with the stars- most spacers are cremated and have their ashes thrown into space, very few can afford to be buried. The old man was a sap though. There were even a few tears.

Then I received a curtsey tour of the home and got a very good scope of just how much security the place had and where everything was.

I left the old man with the idea that I'd be returning in two days to get the shiny black casket in the first room we visited. Really, I would be returning later that night for the silvery white one in the third room. Hopefully that would keep them off my trail long enough to get us off earth.

Hopefully- there's that word again. The killer of all half-assed plans.

Everything was set; I just had to wait until nightfall for it all to fall into place.

I returned to the motel, got propositioned by the hooker leaving room 9 and interrogated by the drunk from room 11. He seemed to be of the belief that I was a spy or terrorist sent to kill him for accidentally accessing the government's website and she seemed to think I needed a blowjob.

It's vaguely amazing that they were both partly right.

A lot of tension left my body as Heero's still form came into sight. It's probably damaging to my mental state to be seeking reassurance from an unconscious person but I was beyond the point of caring.

I showered, packed and ate before sitting down and simply waiting for night to come. I sat and stared at Heero, counting his breaths, cleaning his bandages and holding his hand. The last of the two were more for my benefit than his.

It was alarmingly reassuring to know that in twenty-four hours we would both be on a shuttle going off-planet. Earth is like a strange sort of heaven to any colony children but the only thing I wanted was _off_ and back between the stars where everything was familiar and there were no harpies with rose-cream to stain your hair. Or suicidal pilots to blow themselves up. Or bratty kids looking for sugar.

Now that's pure heaven.

Heero's suit arrived at seven that night- thank Someone for express delivery- and I got his body ready before myself. I wanted to leave this place quickly and make our eight o'clock shuttle in the morning.

It was a bit of a funny fit- the suit was about two sizes too big and Heero was loosing some weight. It was black and wrinkled, and the rose in the pocket was dead and brown but no one would be opening the casket once it was locked down in the cargo bay.

The bay will thankfully be pressurized and heated- mostly because passengers with pets are frequent on shuttles- and nobody wants a flash frozen body, dead or not.

Had it been any other time, I probably would have admired how good Heero looked in a suit- he looks great in anything- but this time there was something a bit too…..somber about the whole idea. I was essentially dressing him for his death; that doesn't really inspire thoughts of little ducks and fluffy bunnies. I think if Heero ever truly died I would never attend the funeral- I'd hate to see him like this again, permanently.

That might not have been the best mood to put myself in to pull off a heist but I'm annoyingly stupid like that. By the time I left the motel room, I was in a state of mind that had me ending up in a casket of my very own.

I managed to shake that off by the time I was a few blocks from the funeral home. That's the great part about being a Gundam pilot and having all that intense training- you can lie to yourself so easily.

Entering the building was easy- almost too easy. Although, I _did_ run my hip into the pointy edge of high coffee table and knock over two flower arrangements that had been moved form this morning.

I dealt with the two minor problems- the first by limping the second by kicking the bits of glass under an ugly rug in the hall and throwing the flowers in a closet- before moving on.

I nearly waked past the third room and growled loudly when I got a good look at the lock. It was one of those electronic ones that made Maxwell curse a blue streak and start shooting.

Thankfully I had my laptop and cables or I would have had to give up and ship Heero to L3 in a wooden crate.

It took ten minutes and a few of the shadows tried to give me a heart condition but the echoing click of the door was a relief. I caught it before the door could swing into the room completely and had to pray to whatever deity that had made me do so.

The room had a laser grid on the floor. If the solid wood door had passed through one of the lines it would have been all over.

Easing into the room took a moment, and nearly sucking my stomach into my spine, but it was possible and I did do it. Ah, the benefits of being tall and skinny- and yes, there are benefits, not just the whole being able to see in movie theatres thing either.

Hm, so I'm stuck in a room with a kick-ass security system and I need to move a coffin from one side of the room to the door without tripping over the scary red lasers. Joy. Pure and utter joy- that was my mood at the moment.

If I were more inclined to mindless ramblings, I'd be questioning the possibility of my life being one big cosmic joke. Someone has to be laughing at my expense because I certainly was not.

My best bet was making my way over to the alarm system and trying to manually dismantle it without alerting the local authories of a break in.

I tip-toed over the glowing red lines, wondering briefly why someone would have this much security for a bunch of pretty-ed up wooden boxes that are only going to end up buried. I mean, who'd really want to steal a casket?

…..oh yeah- me.

I reached the wall, trip free and flipped the little plastic case off the number pad only to have to catch it as it broke off. Hm, maybe it's a cheap model or old. That would be good- easier to break into and an old system doesn't have half the traps the new ones have.

I spent ten minutes studying the company name- which was strangely unfamiliar- and the make of the system before taking out my tiny screw driver kit and began working at the screws…

…..only to have the whole damn square slide off the wall and smash on the floor.

I stared at it with a sinking feeling in my gut before kicking one foot out to test the lasers. I hit the light and watched as it popped of the wall with a growl.

It was a fucking fake.

The whole set up was made to look like some high-tech security system- from the control panel to the little laser pointers all glued on the wall in a grid formation. All fake.

I could have cheerfully killed that old man for this. It was already three thirty in the damn morning and I had lost too much time dancing round little red lights.

It's times like these that I even embarrass myself.

I was careful to be quiet as I rolled my casket of choice out of the room but I was sulky enough to knock some of the flowers on the floor and switch around the obvious order of the boxes. It may have been to cover which one I'd taken but I took a perverse pleasure in messing up someone's pattern.

Ha.

I may be a Gundam pilot but even Heero would have to agree that a casket is fucking heavy. Logically, it's a damn hollow box with a bit of fluff stuck to the insides- what's so heavy about that?

Trying to fit it into the back of a hearse, it felt more like a whole damn tree and a few of its cousins. I smashed my fingers on the end of the trunk space and smacked my knee into the trolley before it fit properly.

By the way things were going I'd need a casket myself to get off of Earth. Or a wheelchair in the least.

I hobbled my way to the driver's side door and gingerly sat in the seat. I'd filched the set of keys for the hearse; now all I had to do was drive it to the alley behind the motel and grab Heero and my stuff.

I can pilot a Gundam. I can pilot a freaking airplane. I can drive a transport truck. When it comes to transportation, any type, I'm damn good.

But I cannot drive a hearse.

It is a long, awkward and ugly thing to drive and it handles like shit. I was tempted to simply drag my bounty to the nearest bus stop and get to the space sport that way after nearly taking out another pretty blue mailbox.

I would be unlucky enough to grab the keys to the one vehicle that was broken beyond belief. I tried to console myself with the thought that things would be better when I returned to L3 and the circus.

But damn if I would be letting Cathy throw knives at me for a while.

I made it to the motel and parked around the back awkwardly. Good news would be I only hit one trash can.

The hooker was gone from my door- probably back in room 9 with whoever was making that horrible grunting noise. I grabbed the duffle and set Heero's body back up. The drip should be good for the next few days if I set him up with a new one right before I went to check in.

I dashed out to the hearse to drop off the duffle and backpack of supplies before returning to get my pain-in-the-ass. Then I just sort of looked at him. I wouldn't get to see Heero during the trip- and I wouldn't chance trying. It would suck if I ended up getting us caught while we were in space.

His face was pale, so much so that the natural tint of gold in his skin looked too yellow to be healthy. Well, I suppose its good he looks a bit like a dead person then- just in case anyone decides to open the casket.

His hair is still in its damn perpetual messy state. It looks nice that way. I think so anyway. Chang's got nice hair too- when it's not busy keeping the wrinkles out of his forehead. Maxwell's hair is pretty too but Heero's hair says a lot about him. It's just as confusing as it's..master? Owner? Whatever one calls the person who reins over his hair. It's prickly-looking but soft and silky- much like Heero is.

……I'm seeing way too much in this. Soon, I'll be creating sonnets to his fingernails and counting his eyelashes. Time to move.

I threw Heero over my shoulder, careful of the drip and left the keys on the keeper's desk before making my way back to the hearse. It was getting close to five in the morning by now and the shuttle was scheduled to leave at eight.

The back of a hearse isn't all that spacey, especially for actually opening a coffin. Then again, who really expects to have to open the lid again once it's in the car huh? I finally maneuvered Heero in the right position and toyed with the thought of crossing his arms over his chest like Dracula before simply clasping them across his stomach.

Still, it would have been funny to have a vampire Heero riding in the back. I could imagine the face of anyone curious enough to try and crack the top of his coffin.

I kept the lid up as we drove away from the motel and headed towards the space port. I couldn't help but chuckle as I realized I was driving a stolen hearse down the highway with a casket in the back, filled with a person who was still alive. I swear they make the warning labels for people like me.

I was unimaginably thankful for the absence of any police. I think the episode with the last cop I ran into- er, bad choice of words there- saw, was enough to give me a complex about authority figures.

The town was still pretty sleepy looking as I drove through the streets- what with it being a Saturday morning. Normal people sleep in on Saturdays, I think. I've barely slept in the last four days so the concept is a little skewed for me right now.

I did get a funny look from an old lady walking her fluffy little dog as I stopped at a red light. I suppose I look a bit young to be driving a hearse but people in the funeral business are a somber bunch so that helps.

I've been told countless times that I make people think I don't know how to smile. Maxwell even promised to pay for the stitches once.

I wonder what he'd say if he knew I had a job at the circus as a clown.

It was quarter to seven when I pulled into the Space Port.

Heero's drip was changed with speed- I was familiar with it by now- and I closed the lid slowly.

"See you on L3."

It was a promise of sorts, to a guy who would never know I promised it but it made me feel….better. Like I still had a purpose. I'd nearly forgotten, in all the excitement, my acceptance of making Heero well and keeping him safe when I nabbed his body up in Siberia. This was just me being anal and reaffirming my previously unspoken promise.

The woman behind the counter this time was old. There was no other way to describe it but old; really, really old. If asked, I would have bet on her being around when the ice caps melted at the end of the ice age.

As I filled out even more paper work I got to know the names of her twelve children, twenty-three grand-children and eight great-grand-children. Hino Saisah had been married for sixty-four years and had a vermin problem behind her house. Knowing that some people's problems didn't even begin to touch my own was the greatest thing in the world. Really.

"Could I supervise my brother's transport into the shuttle, ma'am?" I asked quietly- of course it was quietly, did I do anything in a loud manner?

She gave me a gentle, old lady smile and nodded.

"Of course, dear. I'll show you to the security port and from there you can watch as they load up." She hobbled out from behind the counter and motioned to another younger girl to take her place.

I could only watch for so long before offering her my arm. I may be a 'cold, heartless, murdering' Gundam pilot but I would feel bad if I gave some old lady a heart attack by making her show me around the Space Port.

It's kids I have no compassion for. Bratty little suckers.

I watched like a man obsessed as the silvery white casket was pushed into the security room and scanned briefly confirming the presence of a body in there and nothing more.

Straps were applied- the ones that need to be cut off when the package reaches its proper place. I'd forgotten about those. That made me feel a bit better.

Saisah took me to stand in the space port, at the observation window over looking the launch pad. I watched Heero-In-A-Box be wheeled out to the shuttle and kept watching even as the silvery white of his casing disappeared.

That must have made my guide nervous because she made me sit down and buy something from one of the cafés before I had to leave.

The last week decided to catch up with me as I was scoffing down my turkey sandwich and I nearly missed the boarding call. I met the ticket handler with a large coffee stain on my shirt and a scowl on my face. These people have no idea how weird I feel right now with actual emotions on. I'm damn freaky looking.

I dropped my duffle off in my assigned cabin before heading to my seat. Once we were safely in space I could leave everyone else behind and hide away in my own little room.

And give myself an ulcer worrying about Heero. Great.

As I sat in seat J18, rubbing my temples to stop the damn throbbing a tension headache was causing I heard a sharp intake of breath.

I glanced up and nearly left the shuttle.

It was Sugar Kid from all the way back in Tokyo.

I think I was glaring because he 'epp'ed and quickly sat down in his seat. The woman next to him, who had to be his mother, shot the boy a funny look but he simply shook his head and looked ready to piss his pants.

I smirked.

I've still got it.

We launched five minutes earlier than expected, the attendants hurrying to apply anti-nausea patches and calm first-time flyers. I was clam, cool and collected. Hell, I almost fell asleep.

Unfortunately, your body will tell you when it's getting rundown and I had my first ever nose bleed from re-entry into space. I felt like a fool even though half of the other passengers had them.

A nose bleed! I was ashamed- deeply, deeply ashamed.

I hid in my cabin as soon as the all-clear was given. Not even Sugar Kid's squeak as I dashed by helped my mood.

I had just finished cleaning up and had my shirt half way up my chest when a knock sounded on my door. I growled softly. Probably the flight attendants.

It was Sugar Kid's mother.

I will never claim to be a fortune teller.

"Excuse me sir." She said nervously, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "I believe my son has been…..acting oddly since your arrival on the shuttle and I-"

I cut her off, tired and irritated. "I believe you sent him out to get a cup of sugar a few days ago and he came to my apartment. I might not have been the most charming host."

She looked surprised. "Oh! He was a brat wasn't he?" She snapped her fingers. "I'll have to have a talk with him later."

Then a sort of gleam entered her dark gaze, making me nervous. That was the same look Relena got around Heero.

"You know," she tried to purr. "Some people would call this fate- meeting each other on the same plane."

I kept my face blank as I answered. "Really? I call it bad luck."

Then I might have slammed the door in her face. Just a little bit.

It never hit me until after I had locked my door that Sugar Kid's mother had just hit on me. She had to have been at least twenty-five or thirty. I'm sixteen. I'm not entirely sure that's completely legal in Japan.

Huh.

I was officially in space and things were still damn scary. Not a good omen.

I'm not exactly sure when I drifted off but I slept for most of the trip out to the L3 cluster. I ate twice and showered as well. And avoided Sugar Kid and his Hoochie mom.

Yes hoochie- I heard a merc say it once…….

I did that embarrassingly clichéd thing and took a deep breath of air as I left the shuttle. True, I wasn't on Earth anymore and the air on all colonies is filtered but L3 simply smells like L3.

It's comforting.

I quickly made my way through the crowd at the Space Port- it's always much more busy up in the colonies than Earth- and quickly found the desk I was looking for. I wanted to get Heero out of that damn box now.

The girl- Lindsay her tag said- dimpled at me prettily before typing into her little computer.

I think the deity that has been plaguing me so far knew I had put my guard down because I felt panic start to stir in my gut at her sudden frown.

I got the completely fake smile and "Please wait one moment, sir." Before she dashed off in a flurry of blue vest and clicking heels.

What had happened? Had some of the other cargo come undone and smashed the casket? Had someone opened it to find a living person instead of a corpse? Had they recognized Heero as a Gundam pilot? Had they recognized me?

Lindsay returned with an older, stern-looking man. He had a black vest- that somehow seemed important.

"Mr. Barton you are here to retrieve the casket of your late brother?"

I nodded. "Is there a problem?"

He shot Lindsay a look. "Yes, Mr. Barton. It appears as though your brother's coffin didn't arrive on your shuttle." He grimaced. "It's missing."

* * *

A/N: Sorry about this taking so long- it's only a short fic but work popped up and I've got another huge one-shot on the way.

S.Tangerine


	6. The Tears of a Clown

Cadaver Company

Chapter Six: The Tears of a Clown

I sort of felt faint as the words hit me. Missing. Heero was missing. HEERO was MISSING.

"Apparently, Mr. Barton. If Heero was your brother's name."

Oh, I'd said that out loud. Crap. I need to get under control. I took a deep breath before trying to talk again.

"How do you lose a casket? In space?! It's not like we stopped over on some random passing meteor!"

Black Vest Guy held up his hands as sweat began to break out on his forehead.

"Mr. Barton, please clam down." What, this wasn't calm? "I'm sure that no harm will come to your brother's body. I just need a bit more information from you before we find out where he was….misplaced."

More information? What, like he's not really dead but a comatose Gundam pilot who thought it would be fun to blow him self up?

He was clicking away on the computer in front of Lindsay at an almost frantic pace that made me nervous. Doesn't everyone just hate those computers at airport and shuttle sport terminals where the people behind the desk can see what's coming up but you can't? I do. I always feel like their not doing what they say they are- probably checking their email or watching porn when they say there are no available flights.

"Where did you depart from, Mr. Barton?"

"Tokyo, Japan." Was that really only a couple of days ago- it felt like a millennia.

Black Vest Guy mumbled to him self about it being a non-stop flight as some of the people behind me began to grumble. One old lady snipped about the arrogance of youth and I glared at her.

"If you cannot keep your mouth shut, will you please move to the back of the line while these idiots search for my missing brother?"

I got a couple startled gasps in return and it was like someone had flicked a switch- the evil old bag turned into Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother, patting her thin, silvery curls in shock.

Then she banged her cane- one I hadn't even noticed- against the floor of the shuttle port angrily.

"How old is the little dear? Perhaps you've just been separated on the long flight."

"What does he look like?" asked the female part of what appeared to be a middle-aged couple. She had eye-wateringly red hair and a thick Irish accent.

Her husband had more freckles than actual skin color and a perpetual 'Maxwell' grin.

Damn Jesus.

I didn't want to cause a stir- well a bigger one than I'd already made- so I looked away, going for the upset look, and muttered "They lost his casket."

Granny gasped and shouted a curse at the nervous looking people gathering behind the counter. Lindsay looked about ready to jump ship.

"Mistreatment of the dead! I never! This will be my last flight with this particular space line."

Murmurs of agreement filled the air around me as Black Vest Guy tried to type and calm the crowd.

Huh, I'd just help put an airline out of business. Take that Winner.

The Irish brod placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, her smile sympathetic.

"I'm sorry for yer loss my dear." She nudged her husband in his ribs with an elbow. "Anything we can do fer ya, ya just say, alright?"

I nodded, feeling a bit weirded out.

"You should sue young man." A slick looking guy with a black suit and briefcase said, pulled out a card from his breast pocket. "Emotional trauma, pain and suffering- you could get a lot of money."

I took the card just to shut the man up and he taped it before leaving.

"Call me if you do."

Like hell.

"Found him!" Black Vest Guy said in relief, all but shouting the news.

The line up behind me cheered. I felt faint. Heero owed me big time……but I doubted very much I'd choose to tell him I'd lost his body in outer space.

"He was accidentally put on the shuttle heading to the L3 colony next to ours." He clicked again and gave me a faked smile. "I can get him here in about three hours. Free of charge."

I nodded.

Vest Guy huffed in relief. "I'll just get the guys over their to take a peek in on his body and-"

"What?!" I demanded, leaning over the counter that separated us, trying to reach the backspace button on the keyboard. "You can't do that!"

The guy blinked. "Wha- why not?"

Irish girl growled. "You can't be opening a casket after it's been closed man. Respect and religion and all that stuff."

Granny scowled. "Shame on you."

Vest Guy looked torn. "But we have to assess if there has been any damage- you can't have a decent funeral if the...body's been hurt."

I spoke without thinking, my thoughts chasing each other in circles at the thought of someone opening that casket and finding Heero's very much alive body.

"It's a closed casket ceremony." I said sharply. "My brother was…mauled…. By a….a Pekingese." 1

Lindsay had the gall to snicker at me.

"A Pekingese?" Vest Guy repeated, eyes wide.

I nodded. "A whole pack of them. He worked as a dog walker and they just turned on him like that!"

I snapped my fingers and made everyone around me jump. I shook my head sadly.

"It was awful. My poor sister found him in the backyard…."

I received another sympathetic pat on the back as Black Vest Guy offered to pay for anything I bought during my stay at the shuttle port- as payment for losing my Heero.

I let him, my mind still wrapped around the fact I'd just told a bunch of stranger that the infamous pilot 01 had been disfigured and killed by a pack of wild Pekingese. Not bears or wolves or evil Ozzies but little fuzzy shit- on-a-stick dogs.

Not under pain of death would I tell Heero about this damn trip

Roughly three hours to wait. Three hours. I don't think that's ever looked so long.

Until Granny and that Irish couple sat down on their side of me and professed to stay and 'comfort' me until 'my brother' arrived.

Those three hours suddenly looked like three years.

I had the oddest stirring of anger at Heero for getting lost in the first place. I'm never picking up his body again. Period. You couldn't pay me to and I'm a former mercenary. There's nothing we wouldn't do- but pick up the broken parts of Heero Yuy has been scratched off the list.

Nana Minnie- that was the old bag's name- made me grab something hot to eat before going on and on and on about how I was much too thin and needed someone to look after me in my 'time of need'.

Seamus and Brenda- the Irish couple- started asking about my parents and why I was on my own with a war going on. I was forever thankful that I didn't possess Maxwell's obsession with honesty at that moment.

I muttered something about being a war orphan and groaned internally as Freckles pulled out his wallet and Carrot Top started telling us all about their kids- all seven of them.

Sitting there, squashed between Nana Minnie and the couple who had never heard of birth control, it wasn't hard to believe in reincarnation- because I must have done something awful to have deserved this.

Maybe I killed the original Heero Yuy and his successor is here to haunt me until my own untimely death.

Well, if anything this lovely trip has put me on even ground with the rest of the pilots when it comes to sanity. I'm now just as fucked up as the rest of them.

A breaking news scroll caught my eye on one of the many televisons in the port and I felt myself stiffen as Wufei's Gundam was shown on the screen.

"The Gundam OZ officials have called Zero Five is currently engaged in an attack against OZ troops near the L1 colony of L1-9987SX-"

Carrot Top tsked. "I hoped somebody is looking out from them Gundam pilots out there. Tis rumored they're only teenagers."

Nana Minnie shook her head sadly. "Shocking when kids have to fight in wars because the adults are no damn good to do anything."

Freckles crossed his arms. "I bet der parents are mighty proud of 'em. Out fightin' a war 'gainst the world. Five ta Everyone."

I snorted. "You think they'd be out there is they had parents to worry about them?"

Nana Minnie patted my arm as I blinked at my own words. I didn't know I felt so….. bitter about my lot in life.

"Even if they don't win the war, the pilots have certainly caused a fine stir in the public." Nana said with a chuckle. "They've got the people thinking and the support of many."

"The people have turned on them before." I said, thinking about our famous/infamous-ness. I suppose that's why Heero's self-destruct was so...awe-inspiring. He would have died- hell he damn well tried to die- for people who didn't believe in him as much as he believed in a free future for them.

I know that the mission is important and that dying for peace is probably inevitable but I'm not sure I could have pushed that button if it had been me.

"Aye, young lad, the politics have turned on the Gundam pilots more times than a fallin' coin." Brenda pointed out, flicking a strand of bright red hair back from her eyes. "But politicians don't always rep'resent the public opinion."

"And the minority always looses." Seamus added with a small smile. "But there will always be su'porters of the Gundam pilots and der causes. Always."

I felt sort of…regretful when Vest Guy came and told me the shuttle with Heero had arrived. It was…nice? Uplifting? Inspiring? To hear what the people, the actual colonists that we fought so hard for, voice their hidden support and gratitude.

The strangest urge to skip behind my guide passed my mind before I mentally kicked myself in the ball and shook my head. Any more happy moments and I'd turn into Winner. Just what we need- another gender-confused pacifist soldier.

The casket was a bit battered- Vest Guy offered to pay for fixing it but I told him my dead brother would be quite rank by that time and went off to get the truck in long-term parking.

It was an old beat-up blue piece of shit but it ran and the back was secure. I hated the looks I received pulling up to the loading/unloading dock with my sucky truck. The manager gave me a suspicious glare.

"My only sister works in the circus." I said with a sigh. "Spent too much time around the carnies now, she won't have a proper church burial for our brother."

That got me a few sympathetic noises and one asshole asked or Cathy's number but other than that- and having to sign a few papers- and I was on my way in no time.

In two hours I'd be back at the circus and things would be better. Cathy would help me with Heero's injuries and we'd be in a secure location. I'd be back together with Heavyarms.

The drive was long and quiet and worrying about my Gundam and if Heero was alright in that coffin bouncing around in the back, it hadn't even crossed my mind that Cathy might not have been expecting me A) so soon and B) at one in the morning.

I parked the truck by the huge crate that held Heavyarms. Ed, the Manager, will get the guys to put a huge tent up over it tomorrow sometime and then I'll get busy reassembling my Gundam.

It sounds like a big risk, keeping a Gundam out in the open at a circus, and letting the whole trope know that I'm pilot Zero Three but……. it's not. This is not just the home of the famous L3 Circus- it's the Base of Operations for the L3 rebels against OZ. I get parts and ammo for Heavyarms from these guys and their connections.

Everyone else has them- Maxwell and the Sweepers, Heero and J, Winner and his money and Chang has some strange relationship with Sally Po going on.

Doktor S isn't exactly the nicest bastard I know- I have the feeling if I ever asked him for parts for Heavyarms he'd shoot this Trowa Barton as well.

I trudged quietly over to Cathy's trailer- the one right next to my own- and eased the door open. I knew better than to walk around the grounds without someone from the Circus by my side. I'd learnt my lesson when that new fortune teller almost took my head off thinking I was an Ozzie spy the last time.

A loud sawing sound erupted from the open door and not for the first time I wondered why the trailer didn't shake with the force of Cathy's snores. The girl could wake the dead with that, I swear.

The moonlight reflected of the sequins on all the different costumes my 'sister' had scattered about, so I knew where not to tread.

Not that I wouldn't have been able to find her with all the noise she was making.

Standing over her, feeling like one of those creepy stalkers from those horror movies Maxwell likes so much, I tried calling her name to wake her up.

"Cathy!"

I got snored at.

I huffed and tapped her on the forehead.

Her nose scrunched up and I held my breath as she shifted and continued to snore.

Too annoyed to be gentle, I set one knee down on the mattress beside her and grasped her shoulders. I shook her as I called out louder than before.

"Cathy!"

With a startled gasp her eyes flew open.

Not a second later something hard collided with the side of my head, all but throwing me off her bed. I swore as more sequins filled my vision and whatever Cathy was attacking me with caught me under my jaw and sent me sprawling.

I don't really remember hitting the floor but I do remember the light coming on and Cathy's startled face above my own.

"Trowa! You scared me! Oh God I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you."

My eyes caught the sparkle of the lights against the stainless steel pot in her left hand.

I grunted in response, not exactly in a forgiving mood. She had hit me with a fucking pot, for crying out loud. Twice. How do you not mean to hurt someone when you do that?

Cathy huffed at me. "Well just what in the hell were you doing snooping around my trailer at-" she checked the time. "- nearly two in the morning? Why didn't you just go to your own?!"

"I need your help tonight." I said, pushing myself to my feet. My head and jaw throbbed in unison. Damn, I'll never live it down if I let my sister break my jaw.

Cathy turned red with anger. "I am not helping you put together your God damn Gundam tonight Trowa Barton!"

I shot her a look- who did she think I was, Heero? Heavyarms wasn't going anywhere at the moment and neither am I. I can put him together tomorrow.

"I've brought up one of the other pilots in the truck. He's injured so I need your help to get him out and into my trailer."

She scowled, pushing her reddish brown hair away from her face. "You brought one of them here!? Which one?"

"Zero One- Heero Yuy."

A sly grin crossed her face at that and I felt…threatened. I wasn't supposed to felt like that around this girl. I was a Gundam pilot- sisterly female didn't phase me.

Cathy scared me shitless sometimes though.

"Oh, Heero Yuy is it?" She all but purred a scary glint in her eyes. "You like him a lot, don't you? Bringing him here to meet the family."

I choked violently. "It's not like that! He's in a coma!"

Cathy didn't- or wouldn't- hear me as she stepped towards the door.

I followed her and caught up before she could get very far.

"Hang on- I need some tools to get him out."

Cathy blinked at me. "What?"

I ignored her as I made my way around the trailers to the tool tent and grabbed a crowbar, a baseball bat and an axe.

My selection of tools probably didn't help ease her mind as I lead the way to the truck- Cathy probably expected me to pull out a mangled body still trapped in the pilot's seat of a Gundam.

Her relieved sigh was telling.

When I pulled out the casket, she laughed.

I grunted at her amusement. I thought it was a good idea.

"That's so lame, Trowa."

I studied the lid thoroughly, ran my fingers over the seam and even pulled at it a bit. Cathy did squat.

The lid stayed firmly shut.

I took up the aluminum baseball bat hesitantly. I really didn't want to break through the casket and hit Heero. With my luck, I'd end up killing him or disfiguring him or giving me ED.

So I swung the bat over my head and aimed for what I thought was where his feet were resting.

The bat hit dead on and only made a loud 'GONG' sound and made my arms go numb.

Cathy tsked. "That's not going to work."

I gave her a look that I hope conveyed 'No shit'.

I pumped my tingling hands as I threw the bat aside and grabbed the crowbar. Then I tried to wedge the end into the seam where lid met casket. Tried being the operative word there. I even spit on the end of it.

Nothing.

Frustrated, I weighted the piece of metal in my hands for a moment. It was heavier than the bat. It could work.

The crowbar left a dent in the casket's lid before glancing off and smacking me in the shin.

I dropped it quickly.

"Fuck!"

Cathy nearly fell over laughing. "Gundam pilot defeated by wooden casket! Man, this is hilarious."

I growled and picked up the axe.

That shut her up quickly for some strange reason.

"Why don't you just make a bit of a hold for the crowbar, Trowa?"

I blinked, having been lost simply staring at the shiny axe handle- certifiable I have become.

I hobbled back over to the Heero-box with a nod and took an experimental swing at the wood.

The axe cut through the wood nicely and let me carve out the seam before I threw the damn thing away and popped open the lid.

Heero looked like he was taking a fucking nap. I was tired, sweaty and bruised.

And so very thankful he was alright.

Cathy peered over my shoulder at Heero's still form before kneeling down on the ground beside the mangled casket. Her hands smoothed the silky fabric that lined the inside of the box.

"Oooooh, this would make a nice set of curtains."

I glared at her and hefted Heero out of the coffin and over my shoulder gently.

I left Cathy and the remains of the casket for someone else to clean up as I made my way back to my trailer.

"Trowa."

I turned with a sigh at my sister's call. She grinned at me,

"He's hot- you've got good taste."

I slammed the trailer door on her and pointedly ignored her laughter when she heard the locks click into place.

I was finally home.

* * *

A/N: 1- My cousin was, in fact, mauled by one of these dogs- they can be vicious. True he was like two and a half but it's the point that counts. 

Sorry this took so long but work and I've had a very shitty month- bunch of personal hell that all came at me together. Only one more part after this!

S.Tangerine


	7. Wake Up & Smell the Roses?

Cadaver Company

Chapter Seven: Wake Up & Smell the ….Roses?

I'd forgotten how damn dirty-minded circus folk could be. Stupid me- there was a reason I refused to stay with them year round. Bunch of horny little shits too- always having sex or thinking about having sex.

….or teasing me about having sex.

Anyone sensing a pattern here? No? It's just me then.

I'd only been back with the circus for a week and a half and I already had the gnawing urge to run away again. Maybe Nana Minnie will take me in and feed me and play with my hair.

Heero was still dead to the world- ha ha- so he was safe from the blush-inducing comments from the carnies. Even though his injuries had healed, my suicidal squatter still hadn't woken up yet- but I couldn't just leave him here all vulnerable and comatose.

No matter how tempting the thought of getting away from Cathy's sly grins was.

The scent of roses had finally, FINALLY, come out of my hair completely just two days ago. That's probably why I was sulking in my trailer when Cathy leant me her hair gel and I got a good whiff of it.

Fucking. Roses.

I snuck a look at Heero's still body lying on my bed in the mirror before I sighed gustily and popped the top on the gel.

The scent of roses all but assaulted my nostrils. Ew.

My eyes crossed as I took in my fuzzy bangs and with my slightly blurred vision, I could swear I saw Heero twitch behind me in the mirror.

I felt my neck crick as I whipped around to stare at him. Nothing looked out of place as I went over Heero's slack face and still body. Was my desperate mind playing tricks on me, making me think he was waking up?

I snuck a look at the scent bomb in my hands.

Or maybe the stench of roses was finally getting to me and causing a vivid hallucination.

I slathered the gunk on my bangs with a scowl- the price I pay for having good hair. I had a show to do tonight and the lions to feed before we started to pack up and head out to another of the circus-needing colony in the L3 cluster. I had four days to find a place to stash Heavyarms and Heero before our cover left us high and dry…..again.

I had to wonder why I didn't inspire faithfulness in any of my allies. Nobody seemed to want to stick around to help me with anything. A nagging voice in the back of my head was starting to make me think I was developing some sort of abandonment complex over the fact.

Heero didn't seem to have any problems in that department. If the others had believed he had survived blowing up Wing he wouldn't be sleeping on my bed while I slept in the bath tub.

……he probably wouldn't have a demented pink-obsessed, pacifist princess stalking him either but that's half Maxwell's fault as well. He should have let Heero shoot the girl when he had the chance. Now we're all reaping the rewards of that mistake.

I'm just thankful the crazy brod has no idea Heero pushed the big, red button yet or I would have more than one squatter- hell, she'd probably throw away her pacifist ideals and wage guerilla warfare on me until I surrendered and handed over Heero's body.

With her tracking abilities, if Relena Peacecraft ever decided to go OZ, we Gundam pilots would lose the war. It's a sad thought to realize five trained terrorists can't keep one teenaged princess from finding their hideaways.

I pushed thoughts of the Pink Princess out of my mind with a firm shake before grabbing my clown costume. Maxwell seems to find it immensely amusing that I have a part-time job as a circus clown when I'm not busy being a terrorist. I've resisted the urge so far to ask him what he does in his spare time- I'm a bit afraid to know the answer, to be honest.

I didn't really look at myself until I had my half-mask in my hands- then the similarities struck.

Green pants, blue shirt…yellow stars. Green, blue and yellow.

I had just described the exact color of the clothing I'd first dressed Heero in back on Earth. Except for the stars and stripes of course.

Damn, no wonder the cop laughed at him- I'd unconsciously modeled his attire to match that of a 'circus clown's.

Nope, I was NEVER telling Heero about this interesting trip. Never. Contrary to popular belief, being a Gundam pilot doesn't mean you have a liking to getting shot. Personally, I hate it.

And I'd hate it even more if Heero was the one doing the shooting- he'd make it in a place that would be the most painful but in no way kill me. I'm still necessary for the war effort.

…….. Never thought I'd be thankful for that fact. Hn.

I fixed the sheet that had been wrapped across Heero's chest and checked his I.V. and stats before leaving my trailer. Other than being a bit warmer than usual, there was no change in his condition.

My thoughts turned morbid as I dodged excited, irritating kids and exhausted parents.

If Heero failed to wake up soon I would be forced to…..well, leave him behind is the closest I can come up with. Put him in a long-term-care facility? I could see his chart already; 'Here lies Gundam Pilot 01- best pilot this side of the universe. Failed to hit his head on the ice hard enough after self-destructing. Admission only $2.'

You know you've been with the circus too long when…….

My mind steered away from that thought as another solution reared its ugly head only to be squashed by my big mental foot.

I refused to kill him.

Hazy memories of smoke and blood and violence filled my mind and left me cold in the spring warmth.

No, I had killed more than my share of allies already, thank you.

It might be the most humane of the choices but I would always have that nagging voice inside my head wondering if he would have woken up the next minute, hell the next hour or day!

Or just eventually- that slim hope would haunt me forever if I had to pull the trigger on Heero Yuy.

Cathy grinned at me as I entered the tent connected to the Big Top.

"How's your special friend?"

"Fine." I bit out, tired of trying to get them to use Heero's name instead of that. It didn't work the first time and 'Special Friend' is a lot better than 'Japanese Love Machine.'

Jack was still limping from my professed amusement at his ability to nickname.

I guess I didn't look in the mood to be teased because no comments regarding Heero's bathing or endowment were mentioned again.

Cathy snuck a peek out the window. "Big crowd tonight- I guess people just need more of a reason to laugh these days."

Oh God. She was in one of her philosophical moods tonight. That meant deep thoughts, bonding and tears.

To be honest, I felt some tears of my own coming on just at the thought. Tears of frustration, fear and self-pity.

"…oh just be careful out there, Trowa!"

Lost in my own thoughts, I guess I missed most of the lecture about the pains of fighting a war.

I didn't miss my 'sister' throwing herself at me and suddenly sobbing like a madwoman.

I gave her fluffy curls a pat. What was I supposed to do now? Why didn't we ever get taught necessary things like dealing with stalkers or hysterical females in Gundam Training? Noooo, it was all stealth, infiltration and explosives- all things we already know how to use. Then our little group of mad scientists can sit back and say they trained the ultimate weapons.

….that's actually a very smart idea. We did most of the work and they take all of the credit.

Hm.

I pried Cathy off of me- which was harder than it sounds- and made her get ready for the First Act. We'd dazzle the crowd with a high wire show and some trapezing then let the clowns pull out their tricks, bring out the animals and finally I let my drama queen sister throw knives at me.

Waking the rope isn't as hard as people seem to think- true you need good balance and nerves of steel- but it IS simply walking.

Of course I had back springs and hand stands and flips but I can do that sort of thing in my sleep. It's relaxing in the way Winner drinks his tea and Chang mediates.

It does help that Cathy makes them put up a net for the trapeze though. I may know I won't drop somebody but somebody just might drop me.

Well, there goes my previous calm.

There was a moment, swinging nearly fifty feet off the ground, where I thought Gustav was going to drop me but I countered it by wrapping my legs around his neck.

The audience thought it was a cool, new trick.

Gustav thought I was trying to break his neck.

I thought it was a decent form of revenge.

Everyone was happy.

Well, Cathy was but she's never happy- it's a redhead thing I think.

……….I'm not a redhead- my hair is auburn-ish brown.

Can a person suffer from selective denial?

I helped the clowns out a bit with the animals. I have this….thing with animals to tell the truth. I just understand them.

Not like they can talk to me either or anything so stupid. Who do you think I am- Winner? A gypsy? I know real gypsies and they've shown me some of their tricks.

I can't hear their thoughts or anything so...sci-fi, I just get them. I understand how they operate: food, sleep, sex and attention. I understand their instincts because they make up the basis for my own.

And I just might have trained the lions to listen to my voice only. Just being precautious- I don't want to lose my job if this terrorist thing doesn't pan out.

Mask securely in place, I followed Cathy's dramatic entrance with my own sedate one. Ed couldn't pay me to twirl and wave and grin at the crowd- I was letting an emotional roller coaster throw sharp pointy knives at me- I was suppose to be morose and dreadful.

I stood at the board, waiting as Cathy wow-ed the crowd by splitting fruit of various sizes- proving the knives to be real and sharp. To tell the truth, at the speed and strength she throws them, I'd be more worried if they were dull.

Ow.

The first one hit the wood by my calf with a solid thump.

The crowd cheered.

I froze in place. The slightest twitch too far to one side would give me a large new piercing and I'm not into body art- too distinguishing.

Calves lined in knives, the next two surrounded my thighs. A slightly more worrying area as the right hit could make me bleed to death before help could arrive.

But I trust Cathy.

Yup. Jut got to keep telling myself that.

Two at the hips, two at the ribs, two at each wrist, forearm and bicep. You know Cathy must be great at tracing and forgery. Embroidery too.

My mind drifted back to my trailer and my Heero problem as I waited for the crowd to calm down. Cathy would stay behind and help me if I asked her too but I would never want to put her in any more danger than my being with the circus has. She has a chance of escape here with the masses but none if we were ever caught together with Heero's limp body.

The thunk just below my ears and the sting of a cut made me blink. What….had Cathy just cut me?

I felt a small trail of warmth slide down my neck and into the frill necktie. Hopefully that would hide it until the end of the show.

It's not very reassuring to get nicked twice now by a professional knife thrower who changes emotions like underwear.

Unfortunately Cathy either knew she'd been off or saw the blood because the four knives that circled my head were thrown one by one. A lock of hair fell to my shoulder.

I was suddenly relieved to be not following the circus to the next colony. Cathy was getting a bit too close for comfort.

We bowed to the applause and my dear 'sister' waited until most of the crowd had filed out before launching herself at me.

"I knew I'd hurt you! Let me see, let me see!"

Then she proceeded to try and choke me.

I batted her hands out of the way and felt the injury. It was barely an inch long and not all that deep. I rolled my eyes at her.

"It's a small nick, Cathy. It won't kill me."

I got glared at.

"Any closer and it would have nicked your jugular. That just might have killed you."

Hey, she knows her biology.

Or is anatomy?

"Quick, let's get you to my trailer and we'll clean that cut and you can go lie down and-"

I quickly cut Cathy off. Once she gets started I would be lucky to find myself simply resting in my bed and not at the ER like I'd been mortally wounded.

"No. you are going to clean up for the night. Those knives have to cleaned and sharpened. After I feed the lions I'll get this looked after."

She slapped my arm suddenly. "You're not going into the lion cages with blood on you! CARL!"

From the back, Hulk Hogan minus the sideburns strode out and gave us a sharp glare.

"You called?"

The sarcastic tone all but jetted over Cathy's head as she spoke.

"You fill in for Trowa tonight and you're done. I'll talk to Ed."

Carl beamed at her and all but skipped off. I wondered when he would realize the 'filling in for Trowa' meant 'feeding the lions.'

Poor guy.

Jobless for the moment, I was sent back to my trailer to stitch myself up and rest. I've gone days without sleeping and eating; been shot, stabbed and tortured by the enemy; had to endure Maxwell and Winner on a sugar high- but one little nick and Cathy's gone mother on me.

Unbelievable.

My mind pretty much blanked after that, when I opened my trailer door to discover an empty, Heero-less bed.

The doorknob slipped from my slack fingers as I stood there and stared at the messy sheets, coiled caterer and all around empty room.

Where….?

The door to my tiny bathroom opened with a click and a cloud of steam blocked my view before Heero strolled out toweling his hair.

He was wearing a better arrangement of clothing from the stuff I'd bought him back on earth- the black sweats and navy tank top- and he looked a bit on the thin side.

Oh and he was awake.

"Trowa."

I understood, on some level of my mind, that he'd said my name in greeting. But my present consciousness was still stuck on the fact that Heero Yuy had woken up.

"You're awake." I said, as if he wasn't well awake of the fact.

I got strange look in return. "Hn."

Heero isn't the most talkative of the five of us but having spent weeks without a sound from him, I had sort of been expecting a bit more than a half grunt, half word.

"Hn?" I demanded frostily. "What does that mean exactly? Is it a question? An answer? An 'I Don't Care'? A death threat?"

I had the vaguest notion to check for brain damage when Heero's face showed honest confusion. He blinked at me.

"It's a multi-functional word." He said warily. "In this instance it means I am agreeing with your statement and yet have nothing else to add."

Well, how unexpectedly expected.

"Oh." I said as he picked up the piece of tube and shot me an unreadable glance.

"You put this in then?"

I shrugged suddenly, feeling vindictive. "We sold a raffle at the gate and let the winner have the privilege. Made the circus good money."

It's a good day when not even Heero Yuy can tell if you're being serious or not. I gave him a mysterious grin and left him staring at the piss tubing.

I went into the bathroom and checked out the cut on my neck. My ruffle was a bid more bloodied and hid the worst of the damage but it really was such a tiny thing to worry about. Some peroxide, a couple of butterfly bandages and it wouldn't even scar too bad.

I went back out to grab some clothes from my duffle as Heero made the bed and picked up his dirty sheets. Hey, he's house trained. I'll never forget the time Winner made up those household schedules and I had to clean the laundry.

Chang's socks reek.

I ended up giving myself a brief wash down in the bathroom sink. From the looks of the steam Heero had made, my previously comatose comrade had used up all my hot water. There's usually just enough to do my dirty dishes and have one shower a day- any more than that and people need to start sharing.

Hm, maybe that's why everyone here has sex on their mind all the time. Heero…sharing my shower….

Maybe that cold water was a good idea.

I dragged on a black t-shirt over my white jeans and left the bathroom. My costume was quickly stuffed in the laundry bag before the stench could kill me.

Then Heero had to go and nearly stop my heart when I turned around to find him right behind me.

I think I gasped. Or swore. Or did something because he looked a bit more approachable around the edges.

"Sorry."

I sighed at the apology. "You're going to be the death of me."

His brows furrowed in confusion and I caught sight of the medi-kit in his grasp.

Heero followed my gaze and straightened.

"You're injured."

I frowned. It was a damn nick! That's it, barely an inch!

"Sometimes an inch makes all the difference."

I'm not sure what was more surprising- me talking loud out again or the innuendo that appeared in Heero's words.

A hand like steel vice wound around my elbow as we made our way over to my neatly made bed. I sat down and held the kit open as Heero took the spot to my left. One hand held my chin as the other tilted my head to the side.

My bangs flopped out of my line of vision for the first time in a while.

I heard more than saw Heero take a sniff of the area around my head as I remembered the hair gel.

I could picture the look on his face perfectly. Have I ever mentioned how much I-

"You smell good." Heero commented suddenly, a lot closer to my ear.

-love the scent of roses?

"Well, I- thank you. I think. It's just Cathy's stupid hair-"

I was babbling. Impossible.

"Trowa, you talk too much."

Well, I can honestly say no one has ever said that to me before.

"I'm trying to thank you for saving my life." Heero muttered.

All thought- well all coherent thought- left my mind after that as my long-standing crush held my head in place and kissed me.

I dropped my medi-kit. Ask me if I care.

Somewhere in my mind, a hand scribbled 'picking up Heero Yuy's body' back on the list of things I'd do as a mercenary. If this was my reward……

Oh. Heero had amazingly soft hair for a terrorist. It's so silky and thick.

A tongue flicked at my lips. Of course I opened up- who wouldn't have?

Hmmm, he tasted like my vanilla-mint tooth paste……..

There's only one tooth brush in my bathroom.

I guess I should have realized I needed oxygen when my thoughts started to wander and worry about my tooth brush when I was being devoured by Heero.

I followed his lips when he pulled away.

"That's all?" I asked, wanting more. "Do you have any idea what I went through to get you here? That's all the thanks I get?"

Hero actually chuckled at me. Pulled him back for another kiss and glared his smile.

"I had to dismantle Heavyarms. There were demon kids, nosy grandmothers, flirty mothers, dead cops, shopping, coffins and wild Pekingese. I deserve to have the rights to your first born son for this Yuy."

Heero gave me a look that screamed disbelief as he picked up the medi-kit and finished working on my neck.

Something was nagging at me, in the back of my mind, hitting me with the sting of the peroxide.

"Just how long have you been conscious?" I demanded. "The show was just over two hours long- I should have seen signs of dreaming or even sleep."

I watched as Heero bit his lip in surprise. Zero One doesn't do that kind of thing.

"Technically I was awake when you changed into your….uniform."

The slight blush on Heero's cheeks was nothing compared to mine. I knew it. Even my ears were turning red.

"You were…ogling me while I changed?"

He nodded. "You have a geometrically appealing back view."

Even with Heero's hand on my thigh I translated that one easily: You've got a nice ass.

Huh.

I dropped back to the present as Heero rolled away from me and stood up.

"Where are you going?" I asked, watching him pack up MY clothes with a blink.

Heero shot me a look.

"To visit Sylvia Noventa."

I'm not sure if that name should mean something to me- or my clothes for that matter- or not but the last part sure did.

"Noventa…..the shuttle?"

He nodded, face unreadable. "I need to…explain myself."

I snorted at that, reading between the lines. The pause between the words was telling- Heero was probably going to break into this poor girl's house, claim he killed her relative and then give her his gun and tell her to shoot him in retribution.

Heero blushed slightly, as if reading my mind. He picked up the duffle and headed for the door, pausing with his hand on the door.

"Coming?"

He was going to go off and get himself killed again if he wasn't careful. The last few weeks flashed through my mind- all that hard work, saving his ass and carting it around and the damn roses and now he was just going to go throw it all away.

I all but threw myself off the bed towards him.

Someone had to keep his ass alive- it might as well be me.

…..and it had nothing to do with me liking his ass the way it was.

Nothing at all.

Heero smirked at me as we headed out the door.

Jerk.

* * *

A/N: It's over! I'm thinking about doing what happens between Quatre and Duo and Wufei and Sally in two other fics.

Thanks for the reviews!

S.Tangerine


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